


The Perils of Interspecies Space Dating

by ashtraythief



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alternate Universe - Space, Dating, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:15:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22608391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtraythief/pseuds/ashtraythief
Summary: Jensen is human, Jared is not. Sometimes, they have communications issues, especially when it comes to romantic gestures. They’re determined to make it work anyway.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 68
Kudos: 361





	The Perils of Interspecies Space Dating

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Written for the [Be Mine](https://twitter.com/spnbemine) [Valentine’s prompt meme](https://kelleigh.livejournal.com/360397.html) on livejournal for this lovely prompt that I could not resist: A sci-fi setting. J1 is an alien, J2 is an earthling. One of them does a grand romantic gesture to confess their love for the other, but the difference in their birth planets' cultures makes the gesture seem confusing or maybe even insulting. Misunderstandings ensue.
> 
> Dear prompter, this is just some silly, schmoopy little fic, I hope you like it anyway!
> 
> Many, many thanks to ilikaicalie and masja_17 for being the awesome betas that they are!

“You stole my shirt!”

Jared stands in the middle of Jensen’s cabin, holding up a green shirt he’d left at Jensen’s two weeks ago and Jensen never bothered to return. It smells like Jared. And both of them leave the SS Impala often enough on several-day exploration missions—and unfortunately not always together—that Jensen loves having a piece of Jared when he’s not on board.

Jensen rubs his neck. “I like sleeping in it.”

He expects Jared maybe to smile or be charmed because Jared is a sucker for romance. Jensen generally isn’t, so Jared is always extraordinarily pleased when Jensen does or says something he deems romantic, but right now, Jared looks legitimately mad.

“Well, you can’t just take it!” Jared glares at him with narrowed eyes.

“I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” Jensen says.

Jared sputters. “You _stole_ from me! Wore _my_ shirt! What is wrong with you?”

Jensen stares. “Are you really mad?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Jared, I—” God, this has to be one of the most awkward conversations Jensen ever had with a non-earthling. “Earthlings like sharing clothes with their partners. Wear them. Sleep in them. Especially if they smell like their partner.”

Jared wrinkles his brow. “Why?”

“Because when you miss someone that’s a way to be close to them.”

“Oh.” Jared’s pink lips fall open in a perfect ‘o’. “You missed me?”

“Well yeah,” Jensen shrugs. “Every night you’re not here.”

Jared smiles, beams at him really, dimples popping in his cheeks and he flings his arms around Jensen, hugs him tight. “Okay. I will give you all the shirts you want. But you can’t steal. We take that seriously.”

“Okay.” Jensen pulls at Jared’s shirt. “Can I have that one?”

“Now?” Jared asks.

Jensen grins.

Jared licks his lips and takes his shirt off. And the rest of his clothes. Intergalactic misunderstandings make for very good make-up sex.

When Jensen started going out with Jared, people had warned him. Had told him it wouldn’t last. They weren’t being speciest, just realistic.

Jensen had scoffed at all of them. So Jared’s people had left earth hundreds of years ago and mingled with another alien race out there. They still look human, mostly anyway—they are certainly tall and none of them have monochrome eye color—and their customs aren’t that different. Their language is different, but like all non-earthlings who are part of the Galactic League, Jared learned Old Earth.

They’d met on a job. Jensen was working security for a research expedition and Jared came on board as a translator. He had a knack for languages and dialects, and an openness about him that made beings of all races trust him. Jensen secretly thought it was the dimples, but as his friend Dani had told him that was not a good scientific explanation. Even though she did agree that Jared’s dimples were fricking cute.

Jared was short for his people, the Antoinians, but he still had a good four inches on Jensen. His hair was long and shiny, so silky soft that Jensen could not get enough of it. When he smiled, he revealed fairly pointy canines which Jensen found first adorable and later hot when Jared was biting down on Jensen’s shoulder during sex.

The most fascinating thing about Jared were his eyes, a mix of brown, green, blue and grey, different in every light. Jensen had taken one look at them, and he’d fallen hard.

Jensen thought Jared was flirting with him from the get-go, but Jared was friendly with most people on board, so he wasn’t sure. Plus, Jared came from SA-2/10 and that whole corner of the universe was known for its exuberant customs.

But then, Jared had almost gotten eaten when he’d tried to make friends with a plant-like species on a planet exploration. Jensen had to save him from the vine tentacles by cutting them down—Jared had the nerve to tell him to stop hurting the plant, it just wanted to play. Seriously, Jensen was head over heels for the guy, but Jared had zero sense of self-preservation. Back on the ship, Jared had come to visit him in the medical bay and had apologized, very seriously, his multicolored eyes big and absolutely irresistible, and Jensen hadn’t been able to look away, hadn’t been able to stand Jared looking so guilty, so he’d kissed him. It was a knee-jerk reaction, but Jensen had never regretted it. Jared’s reaction had been so enthusiastic, they’d fucked right there in the sickbay.

They had a few weeks of dates and sleepovers and, the shirt stealing incident aside, things went really well.

Then Jared’s things slowly migrated into Jensen’s cabin and he only realized that Jared has moved in with him a week after Jared has officially given up his own quarters.

“Do you not like living together?” Jared asks in the face of Jensen’s utter surprise.

“No. I mean yes. I mean, I like living together, but usually, people talk about this.”

Jared cocks his head. “But we did? I brought my things and you smiled and kissed me. Did that not mean you wanted me to move in?”

Jensen takes a deep breath. So things with Jared are great, Jared is great, but there are definite differences between their species.

“So humans tend to talk about important life decisions,” Jensen says carefully. “So that there are absolutely no misunderstandings.”

“You didn’t tell me when you took my shirt.”

Jensen takes another deep breath. “Borrowing a shirt is not an important life decision.”

“Oh. Okay.” Jared’s brows wrinkle in confusion. “But you also do all these symbols. Like hearts and smiley faces and that purple plant when you want to have sex!”

Jensen closes his eyes for a brief moment. He has no idea how to explain the use of the eggplant emoji to his alien boyfriend.

“Lots of people use symbols as a sort of shorthand, I guess?” Jensen tries. “But they work because everyone knows what they mean. I don’t know enough about your people to understand everything.”

Slowly Jared nods. “Then we’ll just have to learn from each other.”

The next day Jared sends him a message. An eggplant emoji and the room number of a utility closet on the same level as Jared’s office. Jensen has never made it to C deck so quickly.

A few days later, Jensen gets a peach emoji via text. He rushes back to their room, already unbuttoning his jacket—he’d been on assignment and Jared was stuck in a conference call when he came back, they haven’t seen each other in four days and Jensen is fucking horny—but when Jensen barges into their room, hands on his belt, ready to get down and dirty, Jared is sitting at the table with two of his colleagues.

They all stare at Jensen and his open uniform jacket and open belt.

Jared’s trying very hard not to laugh while he holds up a peach. “Kerri brought by a batch of fruit. It seems I missed something?”

Chad, Jared’s human colleague, looks between Jensen’s half-undressed state, the fruit, and then breaks out laughing. “Jensen definitely thought he was getting something different to eat.”

So they have a few hiccups along the way. But where it matters, they understand each other.

And later that night, Jensen shows Jared exactly what a peach emoji can mean.

They’re dating for eight months when Jared asks Jensen if they can have a romantic dinner, just the two of them.

“Of course, baby.”

Jared is a big romantic and Jensen doesn’t mind indulging him, even if he’s usually not the hearts and flowers kind of guy. But for putting a smile on Jared’s face, it’s worth it.

“Next Thursday?” Jared asks.

“Sure.”

It’s not like they have a vibrant social life here in outer space.

Unfortunately, between their conversation and Thursday a week later, Jensen accompanies another ground exploration, almost gets his arm bitten off and spends two days in the medical bay, a worried Jared never leaving his side even though Jensen’s _fine_.

So Jensen forgets about Jared’s planned romantic night until Jared drags him off to one of the small rooms up on the gangway with the floor to ceiling window panes, showing the view of the entire galaxy out there.

Somehow Jared managed to set up a table with two chairs, table cloth and cloth napkins, a vase with red flowers and there’s soft music coming from the speakers. The room is filled with a heavenly scent wafting over from the bowls on the table.

“I cooked,” Jared announces proudly. “I ordered some traditional vegetables with the last transport. So you’ll finally get to see what food I grew up on.”

Jensen is not sure what brought this on, but he’s happy to learn anything about Jared’s home-planet.

“It smells amazing.”

It tastes amazing too.

While they eat, Jensen asks about the different ingredients, and Jared has a little story to go along with all of them.

“Maybe one day I’ll get to show you,” Jared says and he sounds a little anxious.

Jensen takes his hand. “I’d love to.”

Jared beams. “So, I have a gift for you.”

“A gift?”

Jensen tries to think, but it’s not his birthday and not an anniversary either.

Jared nods and produces a box from under the table. “Happy Saint’s day!”

“Saint’s day?” Jensen asks. “Is that a holiday on your planet?”

Jared’s brows knit together in confusion. “No. It’s—isn’t it an earth holiday?”

“Saint’s day?” Jensen asks dubiously.

“Yeah.” Jared flails his arms. “The one who married all the people? And was killed? And he’s called Saint and people do romantic shit on his day?”

“Oh! Valentine's day!” Finally Jensen gets it.

“Yes. Saint Valentine, that’s what I said,” Jared says exasperatedly.

Jensen can’t help but laugh. “It’s not—saint is not a name, it’s a title. It’s a religious—you know what, never mind,” he says at Jared’s confused face. “Yes, it’s Saint Valentine's day and yes, on earth we do romantic shit on this day. I’m sorry I didn’t get it, I’m not really up to date on the calendar.” Jensen leans over the table to kiss Jared. “And I am thrilled to do romantic shit with you today.”

Jared tries to glare at Jensen, but he’s not entirely successful. “Okay fine,” he says finally. He can never be mad at Jensen for long. “Now open your present.” Jared takes his chair and scoots over to Jensen. “I wanted to give you a traditional earth saint’s gift.”

So flowers, candy, or jewelry then.

Jensen pulls at the red ribbon and then opens the box. There’s a bright blue mass inside it.

Definitely not a flower. It also looks too big to wear. Something edible then? Jensen stares at it, trying to figure out what it is, when it suddenly moves.

Jensen yelps and jerks back as the creature climbs out of the box. It sort of looks a little like a cross between an octopus and a jellyfish, with a solid round blue head and tentacles coming out from one side. But there's a grouping of five eyes on the head, perfectly round dark eyes and they’re blinking at Jensen.

The creature clings to the box with its tentacles and keeps blinking at Jensen.

Jensen searches Jared’s face for clues, but Jared looks at him expectantly.

“Thank you,” Jensen says because that’s always a good start when you receive a present.

“So you like it?” Jared asks.

Jensen looks down at the jelly-octopus. “It’s very pretty.”

The creature makes a chittering noise and its tentacles straighten, it stands up tall and its head vibrates. Like it’s preening. Oh stars, it’s sentient.

“It’s a mish,” Jared says. “But you can name it.”

“Name it?” Jensen stares at the mish. He doesn’t know if he can eat something that he has named. “Okay. How about… Misha?” It’s not creative, but Jensen does not want to get emotionally attached to his food.

The mish seems pleased because it rolls its tentacles around its head and vibrates, emanating a low humming sound.

Jared is positively beaming.

“So.” Jensen takes a deep breath. “How do I cook it?”

Misha squeaks and a tentacle shoots up and slaps Jensen in the face.

Jared stares aghast. “Cook it? You want to _eat_ Misha?”

Jensen has the sinking feeling that he doesn't understand the significance of this present. “Ah. So a mish is not food then?”

“Food? Why did you think it’s food?”

Misha has retreated into the box, but it’s shaking a tentacle at Jensen, the end angrily curled up.

“You said it’s a traditional Valentine’s gift,” Jensen defends himself. “And traditional valentine’s gifts are flowers, candy, or jewelry.”

“But a mish is not candy,” Jared says incredulously.

“Well, it’s also clearly not a flower and I can’t wear him either.”

At that, Misha pokes out of the box, wiggles its tentacles, and forms a circle with two of them, like a necklace.

“No,” Jensen tells it and Misha makes a grumbling sound and retreats back into the box.

Agitatedly, Jared reaches for Misha, pulls it out and pets its head. “It’s a pet! Obviously.”

“Obviously,” is all Jensen can say. Why hadn’t he thought of that? A tentacle-jelly pet. Obviously.

“Chad said people on earth give puppies as gifts all the time.”

Jensen rolls his eyes. “Okay, I told you a million times not to take anything Chad says at face value and secondly I think that’s more of a Christmas tradition.”

“Okay, with all the holidays you have, you can’t blame me for not knowing that.”

“I’m not blaming you at all! I was just confused.” Jensen gestures at Misha. “It’s just not a typical gift.”

Jared deflates and so does the mish.

“But I love it,” Jensen hurries to say, helplessly stares at the mish. “It’s very… cute. And clearly smart.”

Misha preens again and Jared perks up a little.

“I did choose this one on purpose,” Jared says a hint of pride in his voice. “Because of its size.”

“It’s size?” Jensen asks with dread.

“Well, twenty-three is our lucky number, and usually mishs have twenty-three tentacles, but they’re really big and that’s not really practical on the ship. So I chose a number that would be meaningful for you.”

Jensen leans forward and reaches for Misha. Trustingly, it slithers into his hands. Its skin is unexpectedly smooth and warm. Misha wiggles its tentacles and Jensen counts them. “And so you chose eight?” Jensen racks his brain, what was connected to eight? An anniversary? A birthday? Something else.

“Eight!” Jared says desperately, “the symbol of infinity!”

“Oh.”

Jared’s face falls. “This was a really bad idea.”

“No, no.” Jensen carefully cradles Misha in his hands. “This was a great idea.”

Jared snorts. “I thought… the reason why I’m giving you this... I thought we understood each other enough to, you know.”

Helplessly, Jensen shakes his head.

“See!” Jared throws his hands up. “I thought I was communicating correctly, and this is big, so I wanted to get it right. I wanted to do the symbols and then talk about it, like you humans do, but I can’t even get the symbols right.”

“Jared, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I love you!” Jared bursts out.

Jensen goes completely still. Jared’s people are enthusiastic, open with their affection and their smiles. But love, the deep romantic love for the people who you want to spend your life with, that’s serious. Not to be trifled with. For them to say ‘I love you’ equals a human marriage proposal. At least.

Jensen hadn’t known that when he’d said ‘I love you’ for the first time after a perfectly respectable period of five months. Jared had almost run away. So for Jared to say it was huge.

“Don’t smile!” Jared points a finger at him. “This is nothing to smile about.”

“I don’t get to be happy that you love me?” Jensen asks confused.

“Because it's too soon! We still misunderstand, we still—”

Jensen shuts him up with a kiss. “Jared, we’ll always misunderstand each other. It’s part of life, human or otherwise. But we always talk it out. This is not a bad thing. And hey, this mish is kinda cute and I’m not going to eat it, okay?”

Misha harrumphs. Apparently it holds a grudge.

“If you eat Misha, that would mean you’re breaking up with me,” Jared says.

Misha’s tentacles flurry.

Jensen holds him tighter and kisses Jared again. “Good thing we’re not breaking up then.”

Jared bites his lip. “You’re really not worried?”

Jensen snorts. “I’m worried about lots of things. Like you running off on an expedition and getting eaten by a plant you want to be friends with.”

“Hey!” Jared painfully pokes him in the side.

“But I’m not worried about us. We always figure it out, don’t we?”

Jared grins. “We do. And if not, I always get a laugh out of you undressing in inappropriate situations.”

Jensen groans and kisses Jared. It’s the only effective way to shut him up.

“Jensen,” Jared mutters between kisses. “If someone flies by outside…”

“You said it yourself,” Jensen says and starts tugging on Jared’s shirt. “Undressing in inappropriate situations.”

Jared snorts, but he doesn’t protest.

Jensen doesn’t notice when Misha harrumphs again and slithers out of the room. Jensen’s too busy getting them naked.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come find me on tumblr [here](http://ashtraythief.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [here.](https://twitter.com/ashtraythief) My ask box is always open.


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